Lara's Knight in Shining Armor
by Celes Star
Summary: I brought Terry back though in a nontacky way! He gets a second chance with Lara as the two embark on a modern day crusade. Unabashedly cheesy at times, hence the title, but meant to be a fun read! Rating TM
1. Prologue

_Hello! This story is based on the Tomb Raider 2 movie! Of course all these character's don't belong to me, and that's why it's a fan-fiction :)_

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**Prologue **

Coming to the cliff's edge, Lara Croft slowly lowered to the ground then hugged her knees to her chest. From her vantage point, she gazed reflectively towards the horizon. The sky was fading into shades of red and purple as the sunset, causing shadows to stretch across the golden grassland. She let out a sigh as a breeze ruffled through strands of her unbound hair.

The majesty of the African Savannah was timeless – as if nothing had changed in thousands of years.

Lara mused that this would be the land where life began.

"The cradle of life," she said reverently to herself.

Yet only a few hours ago, she had taken a life. Terry Sheridan's.

In her time she had killed many. She lived in a world that was "kill or be killed" and she never lost any sleep over it. Yet today's event, killing Terry, had affected her. She recalled with irony that he had saved her life, having come moments before Jonathan Reiss was about to pull the trigger on her.

Lara recalled the sense of elation she felt at his arrival. She had no idea that he was coming – she thought he was out of her life forever. But he wasn't. At that moment, when she realized that he had followed her all the way to Africa and down the cave depths of the cradle of life, he erased all doubts that she had of him. After killing Reiss, Lara thought that they had defeated the enemy and Pandora's Box was safe from evil hands. She and Terry had saved the day, and they would go home -- together. But she was wrong.

Terry's worse enemy was himself.

Terry Sheridan had given her an ultimatum – side with him and let him take the box or side with "the others" – literally the people of the world - and kill him. Lara couldn't let Terry have that box – a weapon so powerful it could destroy the world.

She had no choice but to end his life before his greed would take far more. She shot him.

The final look in Terry's eyes haunted her. They weren't filled with anger, but betrayal, then sadness.

And then his body fell to the cave floor.

The same male body that had once held her and the same hands that once gently grabbed her right one - the first time they met - and lifted to his lips to kiss.

Lara's gut told her that if she hadn't done what she had done, it would be her dead on the cave floor. Yet only moments before he had saved her…

'Was he really going to kill me….?' The question hammered in her head in-between images of their short, but happy relationship.

A sharp sear of pain shook Lara out of her reverie. "Bugger," she whispered to herself. Blood was pouring from the top of her right hand.

In her daydream she hadn't noticed that she was applying pressure to a wound she had acquired earlier that day. She rubbed the wound with a tinge of irony.

This was the second time Terry Sheridan had caused her to stare at the back of her hand in shock.

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_Thanks for reading! Reviews are most welcome -- even critical ones!_


	2. Chapter 1 Watching for Prey

**Watching for prey**

_Four years ago…_

The elegant sound of violins floated through the mansion, intermingling with the sounds of clinking champagne glasses and peals of laughter.

Candlelight from three-tiered chandeliers lit the main ballroom as the majority of the evenings guests circled around in their finest suits and ball gowns.

Lady Lara Croft stood at the edge of the dance floor trying to hide her dismay.

She wore a classic pastel yellow gown that hugged her curves perfectly and then fanned out in a lovely skirt. Her brown-red hair was piled into an elegant bun and pinned by a diamond clip that matched the necklace that adorned her neck. Lady Croft was easily a belle of the ball – and the attention she was receiving was testimony.

Lara shook her head the hundredth time as a hand shot out to her to invite her to dance. Men, young and old, well-moneyed or well-connected were equally turned down by her. If only people knew that she was there to work, not play.

Her ever alert senses continued to scan the ballroom for the man she was going to meet.

Sir Charles Branson had insisted that she meet him at the party. Branson was a man "of society" and the party's host. The man made it very clear over the phone that he would only speak to Lara about the artifact she currently coveted, if she attended.

Lara sighed.

It was almost a game to some of England's "established" families to get the daughter of Lord Richard Croft to attend their social events. If Lara cared about what England's "nobility" thought about her she might have been annoyed by their efforts. But she didn't. Business was business – she just preferred to be clad in her jungle safari clothes.

"Lady Croft!" an excited voice exclaimed. Lara turned towards the voice just in time to see the flash. The boy smiled then scurried off with his camera to take picture of other guests. Lara cursed - now that was annoying. Her photo would probably appear on the society pages of England's newspapers tomorrow morning. Many an English family would eat their breakfast while staring at her gown and wondering what designer she was wearing. How disturbing.

Lara was utterly uninvolved with fashion, although she was smart enough to know how to dress herself. She straightened her yellow Dior gown and resumed looking for Branson.

From her post, Lara caught the eye of a man who had been staring at her on-and-off throughout the evening. He was across the room, encircled by generic rich-types, but she could feel his eyes on her.

Lara had already returned his gaze several times as she was accustomed to do – in dangerous situations she always let people know that she knew she was being watched. Social situations were no different.

She had hoped that the "uninterested" expression she wore when she looked at him was enough to give him a hint. And since he hadn't approached her once, she thought she was somewhat successful, yet he continued to steal glances at her in between greeting and conversing with other guests.

Although he was across the room, Lara could see from his uniform that he was a high-ranking military officer – and befitting his rank seemed to be approached quite often by politicians, other militaries, and the rest of England's elite. She also noted the female attention he received. That was befitting his presence.

Lara acknowledged that he was very attractive: tall, dark, muscular – ruggedly handsome – with a strong jaw-line and intense blue eyes. And as she was accustomed - almost unconsciously now - she sized up whether she would be able to defeat him in a fight. She surmised that he would be a fun challenge.

Even though he was bigger than her, Lara was a heck of a street fighter. Her eyes wandered over his muscular body wondering where she should strike first…

A smile flashed across the man's face as Lara realized that he had caught her starring at his body.

He gazed knowingly at her and without thinking Lara felt a smirk crossing her face. She looked defiantly at the man with one eyebrow arched. The smile on the officer's face broadened. Lara shook her head in amusement, her smirk turning into a slight smile.

The look must have been the cue he was waiting for – the officer turned to his current company and excused him self and then with a broad smile still plastered on his face, walked in her direction.


	3. Chapter 2 IntroductionDismissal

**An introduction and dismissal**

The male lion is the protector of his family – the pride - but contrary to popular belief, he is also a hunter. Lions usually hunt at night, their strategy is to study their prey and single it out from the crowd. They then advance quickly towards the prey, then slow down into a stalking posture. From there they advance skillfully until at striking distance.

Lara likened his approach to a male lion – the alpha of the pride. The officer advanced over to her until he was a few feet away. Lara pretended not to notice that he was standing in front of her. She didn't like feeding male egos, which she ran across often, but the seconds felt like hours as he stood there. Feeling a slight irritation, Lara made up her mind to at least give him a dirty look. The split second she decided to turn towards him was his signal.

The officer grabbed her right hand and raised it to his lips. (The lion was also the most social of wildcats.)

Lara pulled her hand away in shock. She wasn't sure if she was more mystified that he had the gall to do that, that he was actually quick enough to grab her hand, or that she was slightly thrilled by his bravado. Feeling both impressed and annoyed she looked up at the now amused look in his eyes.

"Is that your way of introduction," she demanded. The man smiled mischievously.

"I've been watching you. You turn away every man who tries to speak with you, so I thought a physical approach would be more strategic," he said with a thick accent. Lara rolled her eyes. It would be a Scot that would make such an introduction.

He continued to gaze down at her as the pair stood almost toe-to-toe. Despite an outgoing behavior, she felt that there was something deeper to his character. Lara felt a smile tugging across her face. In the split seconds when you first judge a person, she decided that she liked him. By the look in his eyes, he approved of her as well.

The moment was lost as a hand reached up and grabbed the man's shoulder. Another man, almost the complete opposite of the officer leaned in between the two.

His red-flushed face matched his red hair, and he screamed aristocrat by his dress, facial expression and the way he carried himself. Lara knew instantly that this was the host of the party.

"Ah, Colonel Sheridan, admiring the scene at my party, are you?" The intruder said almost mockingly.

The officer didn't take his eyes off Lara.

"Sir Branson, indeed - the view is lovely," Sheridan said evenly – like a challenge.

Lara shook her head, sensing tension between the men. She turned to Branson who smiled almost suggestively at her.

"Lady Lara Croft, I am so pleased by your attendance," he said rapidly. "Please is there anything that I can do for you? Is this brute bothering you? He doesn't get out much - the Royal Marines keep him deployed in all sorts of dire environments… This must be a pleasant change, yes, Terry?"

The officer didn't respond. Once again, Lara sensed tension between the two men.

"Sir Branson, I thank you for your hospitality, but the reason I'm here –"

"Ah, yes, shall we?" The host stepped away from Sheridan and offered Lara his arm.

Lara was annoyed by this gesture, but desperately wanted to get away from the situation and desperately just wanted to see what she had come to see: the location of Galahad's shield.

She gave one last glance at the officer – Colonel Terry Sheridan - whose smile had faded into an expression of passive aggressiveness towards Branson. There was definitely history between the two men, but she didn't dare delve into it.

Lara nodded at Terry with a slight apologetic smile then accepted Branson's arm.

"Is that your way of introduction, Lady Croft," Terry said in a dark, but amused tone. Lara smiled at him. She thought about the kiss he had given to the back of her hand. Almost seductively she brushed the part that he had kissed across her lips. A smile crossed Terry's face.

As she and Branson walked away, she noted that Terry Sheridan didn't move one step. She also felt his eyes on her as he had been watching her earlier. It occurred to her that she might actually like to see him again.


	4. Chapter 3 Galahad's Shield

**Galahad's Shield**

Galahad, not Lancelot, was the best knight in the world, and it was Galahad, the last descendant of Joseph of Arimathea, who found the Holy Grail.

In her line of work, Lara knew that some stories weren't stories at all, but based on actual events, clues to actual artifacts. However, grail lore was a bit more of an academic exercise for her and she never fancied it as much as other mysteries of the past. Nonetheless, she was intrigued by the idea of finding the shield of Sir Galahad – one of the last knights of Arthur's roundtable.

The stories say that Galahad rode off on his quest without a shield because he was destined to find a mystical one during his journey.

Lara always thought that part of the story was interesting – after all, why would the authors go out of their way to emphasize this aspect of the story – and when she found herself asking those types of questions her gut told her that this was probably because there's something more than just a story. Galahad's shield had always thus been on her radar as a possible item to look for, but she never actively tried to search for it until she received a phone call yesterday from Branson.

As it turns out, Sir Charles Branson was having his manor's storage vaults inventoried when one of his workers found an old journal. Knowing Branson's fondness of his glorious ancestors, the worker rushed the book into his hands.

At first Branson was unimpressed by the book's scribbles. What he didn't realize – but his servant did – was that his ancestor had written everything in ancient Greek. Fortunately his servant was also a well-educated graduate student.

"I didn't realize my manservant had hired Oxford students to clean-out my family's vaults," Branson said over the phone with a laugh. "Ah, it's so good to surround oneself with genius, it just speaks so much about the person they're surrounding," he said with another self-congratulatory laugh. Lara listened with great patience.

"Sir Branson, you mentioned something about clues to the location of Galahad's shield…" Lara interrupted.

"Ah, yes, something about a quest and a castle, I don't really remember the details, but the servant – err student said that she was a great admirer of yours and that you would be an excellent person to call….I of course was thrilled to have the opportunity to call upon Lord Richard Croft's daughter – I thought it was a splendid idea –"

"Sir Branson," Lara interrupted. "When can I see the journal?"

And that was how she found herself invited to the party, linked arm and arm with Branson and walking down the hallways of his family's estate.

Lara was always appreciative of history, yet she was painfully aware that the portraits, paintings and artifacts hanging from Branson's walls were used more as showpieces than respected for their history. For example, Branson was probably unaware of the very pagan symbolism encapsulated in a tapestry the two just passed which was placed next to the portrait of a very devout looking elderly stateswoman. Oh well, his ignorance would serve Lara's purpose. If Branson's ancestors had discovered the location of Galahad's shield then she would once again conquer one of history's greatest mysteries.

The two walked a long ways until finally even the music and laughter of the ballroom was barely audible. The two stopped to what Lara presumed was the entrance to Branson's study. The whole time the nobleman had been eagerly talking about himself and his family - Lara's interest only piqued during his discussion of his great grandfather, the author of the mystery journal. Apparently he followed the great tradition of a scholar/adventurer befitting an English nobleman's pursuits.

Branson was just concluding the story about his grandfather as his hand stopped on the doorknob of the room. With a smile he swung the door open.

To Lara's great dismay she found herself looking at a bedroom. She gave Branson a sharp questioning look. Branson smiled coyly.

"Where is the journal," Lara demanded.

"Well I thought we'd discuss payment –"Shock then anger passed through her. Even Lara couldn't believe a man raised in one of England's finest families would have such an approach. Lara was bred to have manners.

"Sir Branson, clearly you are not yourself, so I will kindly ignore this episode," she said sharply. Branson's face darkened.

"What's this? Clearly you were ready to provide Terry Sheridan with an 'episode'," he said angrily. Lara stepped back in disgust. She had no time to deal with such nonsense.

"Sir Branson, you forget yourself," she said darkly. He didn't see her body tense, a position that most men saw as a signal to leave.

With a sloppy thrust Branson reached out for her. Then just as quickly found him self thrown back against the wall.

Lara straightened herself – she didn't even move.

Terry Sheridan stood next to her, dusting his hands across his shoulders.

Lara smirked. "I wondered when you would step out of the shadows," she said matter-of-factly. Terry smiled at her.

"Consider me your personal Lancelot, my lady," he said as chivalrously as possible. Lara arched an eyebrow. He had no idea how right on target he was with that reference.

Branson was moaning on the floor.

"You made quite a mess," she said.

"Aye, and he'll have a hell of a hangover tomorrow," Terry said. He bent and lifted the unconscious man across his shoulder.

"The sonofabitch could never hold his liquor, we'd always have to put him to bed at the academy. Let's put him to bed then," Terry dropped Branson onto the bed.

Lara stood at the doorway, reviewing what a mess the evening had been. All she wanted was to see that journal. But she admitted that things did get a little more interesting than she suspected.

Her butler, Hillary, had warned her that Branson was probably not going to give up the journal easily. In her gut Lara knew this would be true. So she came prepared. She would have to "borrow" the journal, but she couldn't do that with Sheridan lurking around.

Lara studied her "knight in shining armor." He was probably priding himself on his "rescue" and Lara supposed that a normal lass would be swooning. But she was no normal lass. Besides she would have taken Branson out with a little more finesse than the brute punch that Sheridan inflicted. 'Typical military,' she said to herself. She sighed.

"I gather he had that coming then," Lara said to Sheridan, cognizant of the men's animosity towards one another.

"We butted head a few times," Terry replied. "He was always sore that a man from a "humbler" background got higher marks than him." Sheridan gave her a coy look. "But he always got the girl…"

Lara laughed, "I see, well it looks like I've gotten myself in the middle of a feud." He walked over and put his hand over the doorframe, learning towards her.

"Not yet," he said with a noticeably darker tone. Lara couldn't help but smile. He was good, but she didn't have time for this.

"Lara Croft," she said extending her hand. Terry smiled.

"Terry Sheridan," he took her hand in a firm hold. She repeated his name and smiled at him.

"I – I'm afraid that I have to get going," she said apologetically. Terry nodded and leaned closer.

"Can I see you again," he asked. Lara found herself nodding affirmative.

"Would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow," he asked. She found herself nodding 'yes' again.

A painful moan from the bedroom reminded Lara about the reason for her visit. She turned and gave Terry a broad smile.

"Well that's my cue," she backed away from the door and quickly walked down the hallway leaving Terry looking after her. It didn't pass him that she didn't leave him with any contact information.

Terry smiled to himself. He liked a challenge.


	5. Chapter 4 Stolen Goods

**Stolen goods**

"Your other left, Lara!" The voice said over the communication set. It was Bryce, her tech man, being his usual charming self.

"Oh alright, I just wanted to admire the view," she said jokingly. Four floors up, Lara traipsed across the window ledge with ease.

Before going to the party, Lara had Bryce download recent schematics of Branson's estate, including information from his security company on the location of his security vault. Now all Bryce had to do was guide her.

With her back against the wall and her yellow skirt tied expertly up and out of the way of her legs she hopped to the window ledge on her left. She let out a satisfied gasp as she landed. Now she was truly in her element. The complications of society - and men - were behind her.

"OK Lara, this room is where the vault is located – Now you remember Monterrey," the tech man asked darkly. Lara understood. She had a close one during a break-in a year ago at a private residence in Spain. She had underestimated the back-up measures of the security system. This time she knew that after knocking out the security sensors she had exactly three minutes before the back-up system took over. Breaking into the vault and retrieving the article was going to be tough in that timeframe, but certainly possible.

"Now Bryce, you're sure that this is a Type III vault," she asked sternly.

"Lara, I have it direct from the security company's files and several orders for its installation –" Bryce said annoyed.

"I just don't want to ruin my gown if I have to make a quick getaway," Lara said half-jokingly.

"Like you care what you look like," Bryce spat back. She nodded. He was right.

With a skill acquired over the years, Lara pried the window open. Her next move was to dismantle the sensor system. This required even more skill.

A tiny device that generated smoke illuminated the red lasers that streaked across the room. With a flashlight she expertly searched for what she was looking for --- and found it. A few acrobatic moves later, Lara was in front of the sensor controls.

"One, two, three," she said as she performed more routine movements. A tiny beep let her know that she was clear… "Three minutes," she said to herself.

The vault was not surprisingly behind a portrait of Branson. She deftly pulled out the tools she had hidden beneath her skirt and went to work.

"Lara, he has been awarded two distinguished conduct medals for bravery on the battlefield," Bryce said over the comset. Lara was twisting her powerdrill into the right position.

"What's that Bryce," she said in between movements.

"Your Colonel," Bryce said. "I pulled up his file…." Lara let out an annoyed huff.

"Now why would you do that," she asked pointedly.

"Come on Lara, you were going to ask me to do it anyway," he said matter of factly. The vault made a clicking sound signaling that she had broken in. She let out a sound of approval.

"Now Bryce, so I like to keep tabs on the people who enter my life," she responded.

"55 seconds Lara…" Bryce reminded her.

"Plenty of time –" The vault door swung open. Lara cursed.

"What is it," Bryce asked. Lara slammed the door shut.

"It's not there," she said in frustration. The evening was turning out to be one whole mess.

"Well, guess you should have slept with Branson," Bryce said teasingly.

"Shove it, you!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

"40 seconds Lara," Bryce reminded.

Lara sighed, replaced the picture frame then bounded towards the window. This was a set-back, but she would figure something out.

"You seem to like exploring bedrooms –" a male voice said from the doorway. Lara stopped mid-motion and turned around. Of course, it was Terry Sheridan.

"What are you –" she stopped mid-sentence. He was holding what appeared to be a leather journal.

"Looking for something," he said with a smirk. She should have known.

"Lara, 15 seconds," Bryce cautioned over the comset.

"Terry, we need to exit now," she said sharply. The Scotsman gave her an odd look then bolted for the window.

"Bugger!" Bryce said over the comset. "Silent alarms tripped!" One-by-one the bedrooms windows clamped shut with iron bars. Terry dove through the window frame just in the knick of time.

"Got you," Lara cried. She yanked Terry back as the two fought for balance on the window ledge. Once again she found herself standing within inches of this man. Finding their balance, Lara let out a loud sigh and turned to him.

"How did you –"

"I noticed a book on the floor," he replied. "It must have fallen out when I dropped Charles."

"But how did you –" Lara continued.

"I figured you weren't at the party to pay a social call," he said matter of factly. She nodded. He was right.

"Besides I've been watching you all night. I just didn't think you were this much fun," he gestured at Lara's bunched skirt and almost bare legs - she wore her typical shorts and thigh-harnessed holsters. For some reason she felt her face slightly flush.

"A regular Casanova –" she heard Bryce say over the comset. Lara told him to shut-up then turned to her new company.

"Well, are you ready for some more fun," she asked. Terry nodded.

"Didn't think I've been scaling down four stories in my Armani suit," he replied. The sound of attack dogs came from the ground.

"Is this your idea of fun, Croft," he asked. Lara turned at smiled at him.

"My kind of girl," he said jovially.

"Yes, well, fun and games now Sheridan, but you have something that I want," she said dangerously. Terry nodded with a dashing smile crossing his face.

"Indeed you'll get it," he leaned closer to her "but unlike Branson you'll have to go to dinner with me first, then the bedroom."


	6. the rest of the back story

**..the rest of the story…**

_One month after the Cradle of Life_

The shield hung inside her artifact vault. It was white, with a red cross drawn on it. She rubbed the shields exterior recalling the adventure she and Terry shared to retrieve it.

After the Branson episode, he conveniently had four month's leave from the service so decided to "tag along" on Lara's trip to find the shield.

Lara admitted that he was a handy shot and his association with some "shadowy types" helped get them out of trouble on more than one occasion as their journey took them to the heart of the Levant region. And she admitted that his company was worthwhile for "other" reasons.

Their first kiss came after Lara challenged him for the journal. She threw down a pair of wooden practice kendo blades. Two hours later, after pure exhaustion they collapsed but found energy for another type of "physical activity."

Lara sighed. Despite his brusque manner, she was attracted to him. They were physically equal – though she a bit faster, and he a lot stronger - and more importantly they shared an adventurous, dangerous spirit. And that wasn't something she found easily these days.

She should have known that his checkered past was a clue to the madness that was boiling in him – a man who was tired of being told what to do. In part she agreed with some of his rationale, he has been deployed on some questionable missions. He didn't go into details, but she understood that he had more than once been ordered to perform operations that he didn't agree with - but Lara couldn't help sensing that his anger was more deep-rooted than politics.

But for four months they shared the excitement of the chase and some relaxation as they camped underneath the stars and explored new places together. She mused that they were almost like a young, happy couple on vacation – OK a vacation that included sky diving, racing on camels, tricky motorbike riding and whose main purpose was to tomb raid -- but they dined and even shopped just like any other couple.

At the conclusion of the adventure Terry had to return to duty with the Royal Marines. To her dismay he called her a day later to tell her that he was being deployed to Afghanistan. But before hanging up, Terry said three words that neither of them threw around easily and to Lara's surprise, she felt the same way. Terry didn't wait for her answer –he must have been as shocked about the admission as she was.

One month later it was Hillary who broke the news to her. He slowly handed her the front page of the London Times. A look of remorse showed in his eyes.

Lara remembered giving Hillary a strange look, and almost having to rip the paper from his hands. When she glanced at the top story, it was like a train had hit her.

She remembered seeing the words "treason" and "Colonel Terrence G. Sheridan" and "17 commandos killed, five missing…" she couldn't read anymore. She couldn't breathe. She ran to her phone.

Her lawyers said the trial was swift. He was convicted by a military tribunal and immediately deported to a jail in the depths of Siberia.

"Can I speak with him," she was aware that her voice was quivering.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Lady Croft…"

And just like that, he was out of her life. The few weeks of betrayal were unbearable. Until finally she woke up one morning, threw a blanket over Galahad's shield and stored it in her vault.

She had made up her mind about Terry Sheridan. He was a bad a man – and furthermore out of her life for good.

Until a month ago when their paths crossed again… the image of Terry's eyes flashed in her mind again. The betrayal and sadness… A pang of remorse coursed through her. She realized that she missed him.

Lara threw the blanket over the shield. She needed a good run.

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_I made slight changes in this chapter. I realized that they spent five months together, not a month. Also added perhaps pivotal back story when Terry tells Lara that he loves her, but she doesn't get the chance to say the same. This makes more sense for later in the movie when Terry asks Lara whether he was the love of her life or just another bump in the road. _

… _no not over, not at all…._

_Thanks for making it this far! I hope I recapped their relations before cradle of life. We know what happens next… (i.e. the events of the movie….) Up next, some magic!_


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